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“Bing’s family is rich!”
“There’s a lot of money in office supplies!”
“Jane visited the White House!” Fanny countered rather desperately.
When Betty failed to produce an adequate comeback, Fanny’s head swiveled toward Jane expectantly.
Jane shrugged uncomfortably. “Just a dinner party.”
“Kitty said you stayed overnight!” her mother sing-songed.
Jane’s face suggested that she was thinking of ways to strangle Kitty. “Well…I did end up having to spend the night…” With an air of resignation, Jane described her back injury to Betty and how Bing had taken care of her at the White House, carefully leaving Elizabeth out of the story.
By the end of the tale, Mrs. Bennet was practically bursting with pride. “You didn’t tell me the back injury happened at the White House! That was a very ‘fortunate’ turn of events!” She winked knowingly at Jane.
Jane rolled her eyes. “I was on painkillers for two weeks and missed five days of work.”
Fanny Bennet waved away her eldest daughter’s suffering. “You spent the night at the White House!” She clasped her hands together over her heart.
“Drugged and in pain,” Jane objected.
“You are so clever!” Fanny eyed Elizabeth. “This is the kind of foresight you should exercise when you meet a good…prospect.” Elizabeth closed her eyes and prayed for patience.
“Mom,” Jane said through gritted teeth, “I didn’t injure my back deliberately.
Fanny patted her daughter’s hand with an understanding smile. “Of course you didn’t, dear.”
“I didn’t—”
Jane’s protest was interrupted by a loud exclamation from Betty. “Look at that! Charlotte is dancing with the stapler king.” All eyes turned to the dance floor, where Bill was drunkenly grinding his pelvis up against Charlotte’s, although she didn’t appear to mind. “How sweet!” Betty cooed, then turned to Elizabeth. “Isn’t Bill Collins your date?”
Elizabeth fought back a smile. “He seems more compatible with Charlotte.”
Betty gave Fanny a triumphant look.
“He arrived with you!” Fanny pointed an emphatic finger. “Go out there and get him back!”
Elizabeth glared. “I am not going to interrupt them while they’re having a good time.”
“You need to do something!” her mother wailed while Betty smirked. “Go!” She pushed Elizabeth toward the dance floor.
“I’ll get a drink for Bill. He’ll be thirsty when the song’s over,” Elizabeth said. Not that Bill needed more alcohol.
Her mother clapped her hands with glee. “That’s a wonderful idea!”
Elizabeth grabbed Jane’s hand. “I need your help.”
Jane gave her a bewildered look. “What can I do?”
“Help me select a drink.”
Their mother waved them away as if they were departing for a long trip. “Pick a good one, girls!”
A few steps away from their mother, Jane asked, “Are we actually getting a drink for Bill?”
Elizabeth snorted. “We’re getting a drink for me. Bill doesn’t need any more.” Charlotte and Bill were still burning up the dance floor doing the nerds’ version of dirty dancing. “Charlotte seems to like Bill. They’re happy. I’m relieved. Mom doesn’t get a vote,” Elizabeth said.
The line to the closest bar was short, and they soon sauntered away with glasses of wine. Jane tugged on her elbow; Elizabeth looked up in time to see an entourage bearing down on them. She slid sideways to duck out of the way, but within seconds she and Jane were surrounded by Secret Service agents—and had become the objects of avid curiosity from nearby partygoers as Bing and President Darcy stepped forward to greet them. Great. I can’t wait for snarky presidential comments about my date.
